


you said forever, now i drive alone past your street

by blixciit



Series: i got my drivers license [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Feels, Break Up, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Break Up, Sad, Sad Ending, Unresolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:22:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blixciit/pseuds/blixciit
Summary: Louis teaches Harry how to drive and also makes Harry fall in love with him. Then breaks his heart.So Harry writes him a note.au inspired by "drivers license" by Olivia Rodrigo.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Louis Tomlinson/Original Female Character(s)
Series: i got my drivers license [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104443
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	you said forever, now i drive alone past your street

**Author's Note:**

> I suggest you all listen to the song while reading. It really adds to the heartbreak.
> 
> Youtube video link:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZmDBbnmKpqQ
> 
> Spotify:  
> https://open.spotify.com/album/5m849a2zFiUwL9tFS7h7sW
> 
> Apple Music:  
> https://music.apple.com/us/album/drivers-license-single/1545051447

Dear Louis,

I got my drivers license last week. I can lie and say that it reminded me of you, but in reality, I simply just haven’t stopped thinking about you. Posing for the picture was like a slap in the face. While I may not be on your mind, you’ve always been on mine.

You taught me how to drive when I was 16. Do you remember that? You were 17 -- nearly 18, had just gotten your license, and was dead set on teaching me. You drove to my house in your mom’s blue Prius and let me drive up and down the street until it got dark. I hit the curb twice and you made me promise not to tell anybody about it. 

Remember the day you got me to do a K turn? By the time I was ready to try it you had already totaled the Prius and got your own car. You picked me up in your new Corolla (why did Jay ever let you get that?) and drove to a street that you claimed nobody went to. Turned out you were wrong, because some big burly man in an F-150 came flying around the bend and nearly t-boned us. I only screamed because you did, I swear. 

I think the day you showed me parallel parking was my favorite. I still remember your outfit. I had laughed at it, called you a sock, but you and I both knew the truth. You were wearing bright red sweatpants and a t-shirt that said “don’t mess with moms who love corgis.” You swore that Daisy picked it out, but I know deep down that it was you. You sat outside my house for twenty minutes while I showered because I told you that I hadn’t taken one in three days. You called me a pig and said that you didn’t want me to stink up your car. I laughed and said to wait until I was finished. We were such close friends then. 

When I was done I skipped out to your car and you recorded me opening the door and saying hi. When I checked your Snapchat story that night I saw that you had posted it. I got butterflies and I didn’t know why.

You gassed it when I put my seatbelt on and I hit my head on the window. I laughed but you kept apologizing. When we got to the abandoned parking lot and went to switch places you hugged me and said sorry again.

You set up sticks to simulate the other cars. Eventually you just ended up standing behind the car and screaming if I got too close to you. I must’ve gotten whiplash three times that night. Out of the fifty times I attempted, I technically only parallel parked correctly about four. You said I did amazing anyway and brought me out to dinner. You paid for me and said “I could never let my date pay for themself.” I had laughed, but I still to this day don’t know if you meant it.

It became a thing after that. You’d take me driving every Thursday night and take me to dinner afterwards. We started calling them dates after the second time. Maybe I was just naive, but you seemed pretty serious about it. 

These nights were important to me. You came out to me on one of these nights.

You had been quieter than usual as I drove around the parking lot. The only thing you said was “you’ve been doing good, maybe we can go out on a real road soon,” and an occasional praise. I bathed in those, all those praises, and you knew it. You kept them sparse so that they meant more when you used them. You added “love” or “babe” or “angel” to the end sometimes. You didn’t that night, though, because you were nervous.

“I like boys sometimes” is how you told me. We had been sitting at the table sharing a plate of mozzarella sticks and you were putting your words together in your head. When I asked you a week later you said you didn’t cry, but I caught those two stray tears when I told you that it was okay. 

When you drove me home after dinner you turned your car off and followed me inside. I never asked any questions, not even the day after, because I knew you needed comfort. That was new territory for you, being the vulnerable one. You had always been the one to hold me if I was sad. You had always been the one to tell me that everything would be alright, and that you loved me. The year before when I told you that I liked boys, you had done what I did for you that night. You held me and combed your fingers through my hair and pretended not to notice my shoulders shaking as I cried myself to sleep. Maybe that made it harder for you, me having been the first one to open up. Or maybe it made it easier, since you knew I’d accept you. 

The difference between you and I when that happened was that I was still there for you the next morning.

I never brought it up. Never brought up the way I locked myself in my room and cried all day because I thought you hated me. But you came back a few days later to hangout so I figured that I was just being dramatic. I never was able to express my feelings, come to think of it. 

The week after that night it was normal again. You kicked up the praises a bit, which made my heart lurch every time. 

It was the week after that I started to realize.

You talked and my eyes lingered on your lips. I noticed things I hadn’t noticed while being your friend. The curl of your eyelashes. The peak of your cheekbones and the way they curved when you smiled. The way you squinted when you laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. How your face lit up when you talked about music or football. Those awkward strands of hair that stood up on the top of your head that you found so infuriating. All those little things about yourself that you absolutely despised. I was in love with them. 

I never told you straight up. I told you I loved you when I was your friend if you would say it first. I think you may have known all along, though. You may have sensed the way I’d take a second to reply to something you said because I was watching you speak. You might have noticed those times I blushed a little bit when you would make an innuendo. Or maybe you never realized. 

But it’s hard to think you never realized when I saw the way you looked at me when I laughed at your jokes. How you kissed the top of my head when you hugged me goodbye sometimes. All those times you looked so damn proud of me if I parallel parked correctly or completed a smooth K turn or even something as little as beat you in video games. Or the times you let me win just to see me happy about it. 

And that one time. You know what time.

The time we never brought up again. Never discussed, never reflected on, never expressed our feelings about. 

Your nineteenth birthday. Only about two months ago, but it feels like so much longer. Don’t you think it feels longer?

December 24th, your family had just left. You said you didn't want a party. You wanted me and your family. We spent the day eating and playing board games and getting ready for Christmas. When they left you dragged me up to your bedroom to show off what you had gotten for all of your sisters. Once you were done showing me, we sat there on your bed for hours just talking. It was 2 A.M. when we finally looked at the clock. You had promised me earlier that day that I could drive back to my house in your car with you in the passenger seat. 

The roads were a little icy so I drove slow. Also because I just wanted to drag out any time I had with you for as long as possible.

When we got to my house you hopped out to get into the driver’s seat. 

“Now we just have to wait until you're 17,” you’d said. “You can drive home all by yourself.”

“But I like driving with you,” is what I replied. It took everything in me to get out that little sentence. I still remember being able to feel my pulse racing. I could blame my blush on the cold, but we both knew. 

You stepped closer to me. It was all so slow. Time felt suspended and so fragile. It was one of those moments that could be broken by the drop of a pin. You reached up and cupped my cheek. I saw your fingers shaking. Were you nervous? Or were you just cold? You caressed it with your thumb. I watched as your eyes studied my face. They darted around, probably searching for some sort of indifference that wasn’t there. They landed on my lips and my body went numb. You leaned in, in, in, and I met you halfway. 

I wanted to live in that moment forever. I wanted to drown in it. It engulfed all of my senses. All I could think was _Louis Louis Louis._

The kiss was perfect in its own special way. Most people probably wouldn’t think so, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Our lips were chapped and a little cold. Your fingers were like icicles hugging my face. I held you so tight to myself and I never wanted to let go. 

I let go of you that night because I thought that moment was the beginning of something. Something so extraordinary and pure and absolutely ethereal. I sent you off with one last delicate peck and went up to my own bedroom. I screamed into my pillow. I felt that kind of giddiness you only feel once in your life. That young love type of thing. The type of feeling that you remember for years to come because it’s just so lovely and fulfilling. 

In our ten years of being best friends, I had never woken up on Christmas morning without a text from you. There was no text from you that next morning. I figured, hoped, that you just hadn’t woken up yet. But I knew that couldn’t be the case because your sisters are young and they probably had you out of bed by seven. 

I texted you “Merry Christmas!” at 11 P.M. You replied a half hour later. 

“You too.”

We only hung out once after that and it was awkward and full of tension. You stopped showing up at my house to pick me up for our “dates.” I never asked you what was wrong because I was so afraid that it was my fault. That I had done something. But every time I try to think of every possible scenario where I am in the wrong, I come up empty. 

I found out about her two weeks before my seventeenth birthday. 

I saw you walking down the hallway holding the hand of some blonde girl I had never seen before. Then it got around that “Louis Tomlinson is dating the new girl.” I thought you said once that you didn’t even like blondes?

I don’t know her name, nor do I ever want to. I don’t blame her for anything, but I think it's just human nature to hold some sort of animosity towards the person who takes away the love of your life. 

I wish I would have asked all those questions. I should have confronted you. But instead, I just let you walk away and leave me broken and shattered down to my core. We’d been best friends for over ten years, Louis. I just can’t imagine how you could be so okay now that I’m gone. 

Are you happier now? Now that you’re with her, are you happier? What did I do wrong that made you leave? Did you ever love me the way that I still love you?

I think of you. You’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up, and the last thing when I go to sleep. You live inside my head. It hurts so bad to think that you can just throw everything away. 

Even if you couldn’t love me as a lover, why couldn’t you continue to love me as a friend?

Because you will hold a part of me forever, a part that I will never build back. 

I love you.

Always in my heart.  
Yours Sincerely,  
Harry

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
